What May Come
by Clara Barton
Summary: Almost two years after the war, Trowa Barton decides to move on and enrolls at Amaris University, located on the former Lunar Base. He quickly learns that the past isn't so easy to run away from, especially not when the past confronts him in the form of Duo Maxwell.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This has been in my head for years. I'm sorry it isn't an update to any of my WIPs but… it's a challenge to get back in the heads of characters who I haven't lived with in a while. For now, all I can do is try to write - but rest assured that I _am_ looking over my old work and making notes and preparing to update. Eventually. I'm sorry I can't promise more.

Also… I never took a writing/composition/literature course in college (long story why not) so… I'm making this up as I go. I make up a LOT of things as I go, but I've never really felt that guilty about it until now...

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guess. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter One

_Knowledge is power and ignorance is fatal._

The captain of the mercenary group Trowa Barton had been raised by had said that to him once, not long after they first met, and the words had stuck with Trowa for the rest of his life.

They had only been reinforced, time and time again, over the years. The fatality of ignorance had been a lesson crystallized when that same captain and the entire band of mercenaries had been wiped out due to Trowa's ignorance and his blind trust in someone who had given him a gift. From that day on, Trowa had worked his hardest to eliminate his ignorance in all things and had learned to use knowledge as a weapon.

It had taken a bit longer to learn that Trowa himself wasn't powerful - only the knowledge he could attain - and that no matter _how_ much he knew he would never be powerful enough to control his own life. Still, knowledge allowed him to learn the weaknesses of his enemies, to manipulate those around him and to survive.

He had filled his brain with military tactics, history, geography, math, physics and enough psychology to be able to survive the mindfuckery of being an undercover agent.

But now, as Trowa sat in Freshman Composition I, he realized that everything he had learned in his entire life, would have very little impact on his future.

At nineteen he was a year or two older than most of the other freshmen in the class and his background as a Gundam pilot, a mercenary and a circus performer meant that he had literally _nothing_ in common with the sixty fresh-faced men and women around him. Even the scholarship that allowed him to attend the prestigious Amaris University set him apart. The Post-War Rehabilitation Program was open to all former soldiers, on all sides of the conflict, but Trowa, who had been a minor during the conflict, didn't qualify for the funds. Instead, the only way he could afford to attend University was through a scholarship fund set up by Quatre Winner.

He had resented it at first, when Quatre sent him the message and the off-hand, less than subtle suggestion that Trowa apply for funds so that he could make something out of his life instead of staying with the circus. Quatre had made it sound as if being a circus performer was only the smallest step up from being homeless, and Trowa supposed that, to Quatre, that's all it was. Trowa had been in the middle of composing a cold, churlish response to the offer when Catharine happened upon him and forced him to really think about this opportunity.

The circus, Catharine assured him, would always be his home and his family - but did Trowa _want_ to focus his entire existence on that? Or did he want something else?

He had taken months to consider her questions. He had never liked to make rash, unformed decisions, and now that the wars had ended and he rarely found himself in the position of making split second decisions he took even more time to consider every option, to look at the questions from every angle.

In the end, he had decided to use the money and enroll at Amaris University - despite, or in reality _because_ Quatre had suggested Trowa attend the Winner endowed Hikmah College in L4 - on the moon. He still wasn't sure what he wanted to do, what he hoped to learn, but as soon as he had set foot in a classroom he had felt a coil of anticipation.

_Knowledge is power. _The Earthsphere had changed in the last five years. Trowa had started off as a pawn, all those years ago, pushed along by the tides of power and conflict, and in the end he had been pivotal in ending the conflicts that had so long plagued humanity. Now, however, he was a pawn yet again - he didn't know how things would turn out for humanity, much less for himself. Going to university, sitting in classes and learning things that had _nothing_ to do with weapons or war - it was a chance for Trowa to finally gain the kind of knowledge that would give him power over his own life.

He still wasn't completely sure _how_ Freshman Composition I would aid in that quest - but for now, as he settled back in his chair and looked over the syllabus while the Prof lectured, it felt damned good to be able to relax his guard and learn just for the sake of learning.

Even after nearly two years of peace, Trowa still found it difficult to enter a room without immediately checking for escape routes. He still distrusted strangers - well, people in general - and found himself assessing everyone around him for potential threats. He didn't know if those things would ever change, or if he was destined to forever be an outsider.

Catharine was right that the circus was his home and his family - but everyone there knew him as Trowa, the Gundam pilot, the murderer, the orphan kid who had saved them and woke up in the middle of the night screaming.

It was good to be away from all of that, to have a chance at an actual fresh start - where no one knew him and where he was free to learn who _he_ was as much as he could.

He hadn't bothered to declare a major during the registration period and had instead signed up for an array of general education courses - composition, history, astronomy, calculus and a music theory class to appease Quatre, who had not so subtly mailed Trowa a flute before he even left the circus to move into his dormitory on the former Lunar Base.

Amaris University was one of the oldest colonial universities, and had been on the moon for more than one hundred and fifty years. When the wars ended the University had simply swallowed up the old military installations, turning them into new dormitories and laboratories for the engineering and science programs.

The sense of deja vu Trowa had felt as he settled into his new quarters had been unsettling - he had walked the halls before, albeit it in the uniform of an OZ officer - and he had had to fight against it to retain his equilibrium.

Even now, as he sat in the composition class, he struggled to remain focused on the Prof and forced himself to not think about the fact that this lecture hall had once been a briefing room.

He looked around at the other students. He envied their ability to doodle freely on their notebooks in disinterest as the Prof droned on. None of _them_ woke up screaming in the night as they clawed back to reality in a desperate bid for freedom from the past.

None of them turned a corner in the halls and found their heart pounding in anticipation when the shoes of their classmates clattered against the steel floor.

None of them -

Trowa's brain abruptly lost its ability to function.

Three rows ahead of him sat a student with shoulder length brown hair pulled back in a loose pony tail. He was dressed in all black and as he turned his head to the side his face was in profile - full lips, strong jaw, high cheeks, wild bangs and intensely blue eyes.

Trowa forced himself to breathe.

_No_.

It wasn't possible.

But when the class ended five minutes later the black clad man rose to his feet, stretched, and turned towards the back of the room. His lips were turned upwards in a grin that could have been friendly if his dark gaze didn't hint at a dark and twisted view of the world. As soon as that gaze landed on Trowa the grin froze in place.

Trowa swallowed hard and returned Duo Maxwell's glare.

The room emptied completely before either man managed to react.

"What are you doing here?" Trowa finally asked.

Duo's brow slowly knit into a frown. He stared at Trowa for a long moment more before answering and then he shrugged. The grin returned in full force.

"Learning how to compose freshmen, obviously."

Trowa merely glared.

"Well, learning how to compose _one_ freshman, I suppose," Duo amended.

"You cut your hair."

Duo's lips twitched and he reached a hand back to feel the short ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" Duo quipped.

Trowa realized that Duo was as furious to see Trowa as Trowa was to see him.

They certainly hadn't been close during the wars, but at the end Trowa had felt no animosity towards Duo, though he wasn't sure he could say the same for Duo's feelings towards _him_ considering their interactions over the years. Still, Trowa hadn't counted on having to ever see Duo again. Or any of the Gundam pilots - except Quatre, whom Trowa simply couldn't ever escape.

He didn't want this reminder of his past - he had specifically chosen Amaris because it was far from Quatre - and it boggled his mind to consider the odds of this chance encounter. There were fifty thousand students at Amaris - how the hell had he ended up in a course with Duo?

"Those damn placement tests," Duo muttered, his brain clearly on the same path.

Trowa nodded in agreement.

He had always thought Duo was intelligent - whatever other opinions he harbored about the Deathscythe pilot aside, Duo _had_ to be a damn genius to know as much as he did about piloting, physics, math and weapons systems despite having never attended school or having any formal education at all.

Of course they would test into the same class.

"What science class are you in?" He asked in sudden panic.

Duo's lips twitched.

"Chemistry. You?"

Trowa couldn't stop his sigh of relief.

"Astronomy."

"_Astronomy?_" Duo echoed and sneered. "Really pushing yourself with that one, aren't you?"

"Because chemistry is going to be _such_ a challenge for the guy who learned how to make bombs out of toothpaste," Trowa snapped in response.

Duo shrugged, completely unembarrassed.

"Are you in Calculus?"

Duo snorted.

"No. Discrete Mathematics - Jesus, are you planning on sleeping through everything?"

In all honesty, Trowa _had_ picked easy math and science offerings - he wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to study at university, but he knew it was nothing in either of those fields. He had had enough of those as a soldier.

Duo sighed.

"Look - I… I don't know. I hoped I'd never see you again and I'm sorry we're both here but I'm sure as hell not leaving and I've never known you to back down from a fight unless you gained a tactical advantage so… what are we going to do about this?"

Trowa took a long moment to consider the options.

He could ignore Duo - if they only had one class together it didn't seem like it would be _that_ much of a challenge; he could pick up where they had last left off - uneasy comrades who could only trust each other to do what was best for humanity; or -

"Want to start over?" Duo suggested, once again seeming to read Trowa's mind.

"I don't know," Trowa said honestly, surprising both of them.

Duo nodded in agreement.

"It's too bad you're so damn hard to ignore," Duo muttered, "because I'd really prefer to just pretend you didn't exist."

Trowa snorted.

"_I'm_ hard to ignore? What the hell are you talking about?"

Duo opened his mouth to say something and then shook his head.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

"I… well, I could use some backup if you don't mind," Duo said eventually.

Trowa frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"The caf. It used to be the hangar where Deathscythe was parked."

It took a moment for that to sink in.

He had thought that _he_ was going to have problems fighting off the memories and flashbacks that being on the former Lunar Base brought on - how in the hell was _Duo_ managing to stay sane? He had nearly died on this base - several times over - and now he had chosen to live here for the next four years?

Trowa realized this was Duo's offer of peace - he was clearly admitting a weakness and offering Trowa the upper hand. Trowa could exploit this weakness or he could protect it.

He gathered his books and papers and shoved them into the rucksack he had carried for years, first for ammunition when he was with the mercs, later for tools as a mechanic, then with supplies as a teenaged terrorist, and now, finally, he was using it as a backpack.

"The RA on my floor already warned me that the food is practically toxic," Trowa said.

Duo visibly relaxed.

"Yeah well - it can't be worse than the rations we had during the first war, yanno? Remember that shit they loaded the cockpits with when we took off for earth?" Duo made a face and Trowa nodded in empathetic agreement.

"Tasted like they were coated in rocket fuel," Trowa murmured.

"God, that's _exactly_ what they tasted like," Duo agreed.

They walked towards the door and there was an awkward moment as both of them waited for the other to leave first.

Duo regarded him with an amused expression before finally giving in and stepping through first.

As they walked towards the caf Trowa couldn't help but notice that most of the students they passed gave them a wide berth.

Even dressed as civilians and unarmed the two of them were intimidating enough that everyone instinctively avoided them.

Duo looked over at him, clearly noticing the same thing, and shook his head.

"If only they knew how much I want to curl up into a ball and cry in a corner," Duo muttered and instantly stopped walking as soon as the words were out of his mouth. His face froze in an expression of horror and supreme embarrassment. He had clearly not meant to say that out loud.

Trowa swallowed hard. He fought back his first instinct, to say something cutting and keep Duo in a weak, off balanced position. It would be easier - he had certainly done it often enough during the wars, to Duo and nearly everyone he had ever met - but it didn't feel right anymore.

"Every time I hear someone walking in heels I feel like I'm going to look up and see Une," he confessed.

Duo looked at him uneasily. His face was still incredibly pale but he nodded slowly, accepting Trowa's offering.

"I'm surprised you haven't pissed yourself," Duo muttered and started walking again.

Trowa felt his lips twitch.

"I content myself with a few tears every now and then instead," Trowa responded, letting his words sting just a little instead of cutting deep.

Duo snorted.

"As if you even know _how_ to cry," Duo retorted.

"I might learn, if the food is as bad as they say it is," Trowa assured him.

They reached the entrance to the caf and both stopped short of the wide doorway.

The opening at one end of the hangar had previously been secured with a magnetic field, allowing armored suits and shuttles to come and go while preserving atmospheric integrity, but it now space was kept out with the aid of plexiglass, making the opening one giant window that offered a spectacular view of the Lunar colony and the dark, glittering blackness of space beyond.

Years ago the hangar had swarmed with activity as technicians and soldiers prepared for war. Now, however, the hangar was filled with the near deafening chatter of thousands of teenagers.

"When I was with the mercs, we always used a buddy system to sweep minefields," Trowa found himself saying when, five minutes later, neither he nor Duo had managed to step inside.

Duo looked at him with a question in his eyes.

Trowa had never shared his past with anyone - certainly not with the pilot he knew the least - but that wasn't why Duo was looking at him like that now.

"We always took turns scouting ahead and following each other's footsteps. It was the only way to make it through safely."

Duo seemed to understand.

He drew in a deep breath.

"Guess I'll take point on this one?" Duo offered and stepped into the caf.

Trowa followed closely behind.

-o-

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This has been in my head for years. I'm sorry it isn't an update to any of my WIPs but… it's a challenge to get back in the heads of characters who I haven't lived with in a while. For now, all I can do is try to write - but rest assured that I _am_ looking over my old work and making notes and preparing to update. Eventually. I'm sorry I can't promise more.

Also… I never took a writing/composition/literature course in college (long story why not) so… I'm making this up as I go. I make up a LOT of things as I go, but I've never really felt that guilty about it until now...

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Two

Duo had the tired, restless look he had worn so frequently during the first war.

It was making it impossible for Trowa to study for his history test.

"You aren't sleeping."

Duo looked up from his own work, a series of mathematical diagrams spread out over the desk they were currently sharing in the study lounge they had commandeered for the evening.

They only had one class together and they silently endured Freshman Composition I from the back of the lecture hall - it was the one course neither had any preparation for as somehow composing essays had never come up in Trowa's life as a mercenary or in Duo's former career as a pickpocket. It certainly hadn't been something they had been trained to do when they became teenaged terrorists.

Over the last two weeks they had expanded on this tiny overlap of schedules. They usually ate lunch together after Comp before going their separate ways during the day. Most nights, however, they met up in one of the hundreds of study lounges scattered across campus to work.

Trowa was surprised by how little they spoke during these study sessions - he had also thought Duo was as talkative as Quatre, but he was clearly wrong. Even now, as he thought back to the wars, he could remember that Duo liked to crack jokes and always had a surly comeback prepared for any insult, but he rarely engaged in lengthy conversations or chatter.

There were pale, violet rings around Duo's eyes but he shook his head in denial.

Trowa snorted.

"You are _the_ worst liar I have ever met."

"Which is why I never bother with lying," Duo muttered.

"Until this failed attempt," Trowa had to point out.

Duo shrugged.

"Sure. Fine. I'm not sleeping much. Are _you_?"

He didn't appreciate Duo turning the question back at him. He slept as well as he ever had - meaning that it took him a solid hour to finally quiet his mind and fall asleep and then only a few hours later found himself waking up from nightmares and unable to fall back asleep. Still, he knew from checking in the mirror that he didn't look nearly as bad as Duo.

"You look like you're still in the war," Trowa told him.

Duo's lips twisted.

"Aren't I? Aren't all of _us_ always going to be still in the war?"

Trowa shook his head.

"No. _No_," he repeated emphatically. "I can't do that - I can't spend the rest of my life the way I've spent it up to now."

"That's a nice thought, but you still have nightmares about them, don't you? You still see the faces of the people you've killed and you still know what fear tastes like, don't you?"

Trowa glared at him.

"The only way people like _us_ get to escape the past is by dying, Trowa."

"What happened?"

His question startled Duo.

"What?"

"What happened? Things weren't this bad last night."

But Duo shook his head and started to pack up his things.

"No. I'm not going to do this Quatre space-heart therapy bullshit with you."

Trowa sighed in irritation.

"_Fine_."

He didn't particularly want to do it either.

There were times when being around Duo made thinking about the past worse and times when being around him made it easier. Tonight was clearly one of the former for both of them.

Duo had his bag slung over one shoulder and was halfway out of the door when he paused.

"It's…" Duo still had his back to Trowa, and he could see how tense his entire body was, as though he was waiting for a blow to land. "Relena Peacecraft dedicated a hospital to war orphans in New York City this morning."

Trowa frowned.

Duo, like the rest of the Gundam pilots, was no great fan of Relena Peacecraft but he seemed to respect her - or at least acknowledged the need for people _like_ her. Trowa doubted that Relena dedicating a hospital was the real reason Duo was this on edge.

"In New York City?" He repeated, wondering if that was the clue he was supposed to pick up on.

"Yeah," Duo agreed, his voice curiously devoid of emotion.

Trowa tried to wrack his brain. He didn't think the Terran city held any importance to Duo - to his knowledge there hadn't even been a battle near the city. Wait.

"Why the hell is she dedicating a hospital to war orphans in New York City? The nearest fighting was at least three hundred miles away."

Duo laughed, a short, bitter chuckle that made Trowa catch his breath. _That_ was the laugh of Shinigami.

"Because there are more news outlets in New York City than in the middle of nowhere, Trowa."

And with that, he was gone.

Trowa spent another hour glaring at his history notes before finally giving up - he wasn't going to get any work done tonight.

On his way back to his dorm room he stopped at the caf. The lights were off and the doors were locked but Trowa easily worked his way past the lock and entered the huge, empty room.

He walked to the former opening and lay down, his head pressed against the cold plexiglass, and stared out at space.

Despite his memories of this room it was still the quietest place he had found on campus, if only this late at night.

He could only guess at whatever demons were plaguing Duo - it was hard enough to pin down his _own_. Laying here, surrounded by silence and darkness, he tried to remind himself that the war was over and they had made a better place. He tried to convince himself that it had been worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I know this is a fairly different writing style for me - none of these chapters are likely go over 5000, and most of them won't come close.

To everyone concerned about Duo's hair: I know. Me too. But such is life.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Three

Trowa wasn't sure _why_ it was called Victory Day. It certainly didn't feel like a damn victory.

Last year, the circus had thankfully been in transit between performance locations. Most of the performers had gathered to watch the news feeds of the various celebrations across the Earthsphere but Trowa had been able to hide himself away with the circus animals, content to clean and fed them so that he could avoid the hypocritical speeches.

This year, he wasn't so lucky.

Classes had been cancelled for the day, which meant Trowa had even less to occupy himself with. It also meant that the fifty thousand students at Amaris had nothing to do with themselves _other_ than celebrate.

Well, at least forty thousand nine hundred and ninety eight of them.

Trowa was able to spend the morning working on a few papers for his classes, but by the middle of the afternoon enough students were awake and already drunk enough to be making a racket in the halls of his dorm.

He knew there were plans for more celebrations later that night in most of the common areas, and for perhaps the first time in his life Trowa had the urge to drink himself into a stupor.

By sixteen hundred he was unable to concentrate on his work and finally gave up.

He grabbed the care package Catharine had sent him last week and left his dorm room.

It felt like he had to weave his way through all fifty thousand students as he walked through the hall outside of his room and past the five common areas that separated his dorm from Duo's.

By the time he arrived at the room of the former Gundam pilot Trowa was feeling more than a little irritable - he had been jostled, pulled into hugs and even kissed twice. Trowa didn't enjoy physical interactions with anyone during the best of times - but being mauled by strangers on _this_ of all days was almost too much of an insult for him to handle.

He hesitated outside of Duo's door. He could only guess at how foul of a mood Duo was in, considering how _Trowa_ felt, but he also knew that if anyone would be tolerable company to have while enduring the rest of Victory Day, it would be Duo.

So he eventually knocked.

Three times.

"For fuck's sake! I already said I don't give a damn what day it is I don't -"

Duo opened the door mid tirade and stopped as soon as he saw Trowa standing in front of him.

"Hi." Duo said, completely deflated.

Trowa fought back a smirk.

"Expecting someone else?"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"I haven't been expecting _anyone_ this whole damn day but it doesn't stop these morons from banging on my door and inviting me to _celebrate_ with them." Duo sounded equally irritated and exhausted. He eyed the box in Trowa's hands suspiciously. "What is that?"

Trowa opened the box and angled it so Duo could see inside.

Catharine had taken to sending him care packages once a month and while it amused Trowa that she so clearly felt the need to mother him, he also appreciated it. This one was better than the other three she had sent - containing not only cookies and rum cake but dried fruit and an entire bottle of the moonshine that August, the head lion tamer, brewed.

"That's some nice loot," Duo observed.

"Mind sharing it with me?" Trowa asked.

Duo hesitated.

"I don't really have anything to give you," Duo said when Trowa arched an eyebrow at him.

Trowa could understand Duo's reservation. Growing up the way they had, it had been important to never be in someone else's debt - if someone gave you something you _always_ gave them something in return. It was something Quatre would never understand - and it was the reason why Trowa now felt completely indebted to the former Sandrock pilot. Trowa would _never_ be able to repay the kindness Quatre had shown him over the years.

"Tell me why you cut your hair and we'll call it even," Trowa suggested.

Duo stared at him for a long moment, clearly debating whether or not it was worth it, and now Trowa was more curious than he had been before.

Eventually, though, Duo stood aside and ushered Trowa into his room.

It was the first time Trowa had visited Duo's room and he took a moment to look around. Unsurprisingly it was spotless - Duo had lived in bunkrooms onboard ships for most of his teens and had no doubt learned early on to keep his personal possessions, if he had any, tucked away.

The walls were bare, uniform white. A bookshelf stood against one wall, packed full with textbooks and what looked like technical manuals for ships. The bed was made, the linens in the same kind of order that was expected on military bases, and Trowa couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Duo asked him suspiciously.

"Nothing. This just looks exactly like my room."

Duo shrugged but allowed himself a small answering smile.

"I guess they can take away our Gundams, but never the training to keep our quarters clean."

Trowa nodded in agreement.

He looked around for somewhere to sit, but Duo gestured him onto the bed.

"As you know, the chair feels like sitting on a fucking rock," Duo muttered and joined him on the bed, sitting just out of arm's reach.

Trowa set the box between them and spread out the contents. He split the cake in half and offered part of it to Duo.

They ate in silence for several minutes before Duo finally sighed.

"Happy fucking Victory Day, I guess," he said.

"Happy fucking Victory Day to you too," Trowa returned and Duo chuckled. It was the nearest expression to genuine mirth Trowa had heard from him.

They put a sizeable dent in the moonshine before Trowa reminded Duo of their trade.

"So, why did you cut your hair?"

Duo tossed back another sip of the moonshine, wincing and coughing at the sharp, bitter bite of the clear liquor.

"Apparently I was easy to recognize."

It was all he needed to say. Trowa's mind was instantly flooded with all of the possibilities of what recognition had done to Duo. There was the slightest chance that it had been good - maybe Duo had been recognized and thanked by so many thousands of people for saving their lives that he had grown tired of their gratitude and cut off his hair. But knowing their luck thus far in life, Trowa doubted that was the reason.

"What happened?"

Duo shrugged one shoulder.

"I was hanging out with a few spacers at a bar one night and… you know how it goes. Some ex-OZzies walked in, saw the braid and things got really rough, really quick."

Trowa looked him over. There were no scars on Duo's face, but considering that he always wore long sleeves and long pants it was impossible to know what his clothing hid.

"I assume you showed them how to get some manners," Trowa said.

Duo's lips twisted into a tight, bitter line.

"No. As it turns out, one kid who doesn't feel like killing people any more is no match for five guys with nothing left to lose."

"I still don't - one lost fight and you cut your hair?"

"Trowa. I didn't cut it. They did. They wanted a fucking trophy to take home with them after they - after they were done with me."

Trowa wished he knew Duo better, or that he was better at talking to people. It was clear that Duo really needed _something_ but Trowa had no idea what it was or how to give it to him. He also felt a deep coil of cold, dark rage build inside of him.

He remembered when Duo had been imprisoned on the Lunar Base and he had overheard some of the guards talking, suggesting interrogation techniques and punishments for the long haired colonist. At the time Trowa had done what he could to mitigate things - changing guard schedules so that Duo was never under the supervision of the worst guards unless Trowa was on base - but he hadn't been able to stop every guard who wished Duo ill will. He had found Duo bruised and bloody in his cell more than once and knowing that Duo had only continued to endure that kind of abuse after the war stirred something in him he had thought long dead.

He gave Duo the entire bag of dried fruit.

"I've never liked it, but I don't want to hurt Cathy's feelings," he lied. He remembered the handful of times on Earth when he had shared meals with Duo. The colonist was _obsessed_ with fresh fruit and while this dried fruit was nothing compared to what he had eaten on Earth, it was the nearest thing Trowa could offer him.

Duo accepted the bag and then sighed happily when he put a dried strawberry in his mouth.

"This stuff is good enough that I'm going to pretend you aren't lying to me," Duo said, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face.

It took them another two hours to polish off the moonshine. Trowa felt confident they were both going to regret it tomorrow, but tonight, at least, it helped to dull the pain.

"You keep in touch with any of them?" Duo asked him, seemingly out of the blue.

"No - well, Quatre, but that's more his doing than mine."

Duo offered him a slightly goofy, drunken smirk.

"Man, talk about a case of puppy love, that guy is probably willing to tattoo your name on his ass, Tro."

Trowa glared at Duo but he could feel the effects of the liquor enough by now that he doubted there was much threat in his eyes.

"Seriously. Maybe - I guess he could do T and R on the left cheek, O above his crack, and W and A on the right cheek. It would kind of have to do like a frown line thing - but that works for you too. Always frowning."

"If you weren't drunk right now I'd beat the shit out of you," Trowa idly threatened.

Duo snorted derisively.

"If I wasn't drunk right now you'd never have a chance - _you_ beat the shit out of _me_," Duo shook his head in mock pity. "It's tragic how delusional you've become."

Trowa lashed out, grabbing the nearest part of Duo, his right foot.

As soon as he made contact with the other man they both froze, smirks fading and bodies tensing.

There had been a fair amount of rough housing growing up with the mercenaries, and Trowa had become very adept very quickly at sensing when things started to turn for the ugly.

He thought about releasing Duo's foot, but he knew it would be difficult to just ignore this transgression and pretend it hadn't happened. So, instead, he took his chances and tickled the sole of Duo's foot.

He watched the other man's blue eyes widen in shock before a helpless giggle escaped his lips.

Duo instantly tried jerk his foot free, but now Trowa held on tightly. Duo, the God of Death, had _giggled_.

"Oh no," Trowa said when Duo continued to squirm. He tickled him again, completely merciless and soon Duo was writhing against him, gasping for breath.

"For the love of God - mercy!" Duo finally managed to gasp and Trowa released him, thoroughly pleased with himself.

It took a few moments for Duo to get control of his breathing, and even though he spent the entire time glaring at Trowa, there was an ease to his posture that indicated he was, for perhaps the first time since Trowa had seen him on the first day of Freshman Composition, relaxed.

"I guess I should be thankful Une never sent _you_ to interrogate me," Duo mused eventually.

"I'm thankful as well - how embarrassing would it have been for all Gundam pilots everywhere to know that one of our number was brought low by mere _tickling_."

Duo was about to offer a retort, but a sudden burst of noise outside of his room drew both their attention.

Trowa checked his watch and saw that it was midnight.

"Thank God the day is finally over," Duo said, looking over to see the time.

"They'll still be at it for another few hours at least," Trowa pointed out.

"Yeah - but things will go back to their normal, deadly monotonous pace soon after," Duo said. He propped himself against the wall and closed his eyes. "I'll take hung over morons over drunk ones anytime," he muttered.

"You might not be saying that in a few hours when _you_ are a hung over moron," Trowa said.

"Probably not," Duo agreed with a sleepy grin.

"I should go," Trowa decided and started to pack up the remnants of the care package.

"You can stay if you want - like you said, they're going to be at it for another few hours. 'Sides, this bunk is pretty wide." Duo shrugged.

Trowa arched an eyebrow. He really _didn't_ want to have to walk back to his dorm room when there was still the chance of being accosted.

"Is this just a ploy?"

"Yeah, so I can steal the cookies you've been keeping for yourself," Duo muttered. "I'm not asking you to stay - but you looked almost homicidal when I let you in a few hours ago. I'm not sure you'd survive the trek back to your room without doing something that's going to get you arrested."

Trowa sighed.

"At least let me have one of your pillows," he asked, pointing to the two Duo was currently leaning back on.

Duo tossed one in his general direction.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but Duo was right, the bed was fairly wide - at least compared to the sleeping conditions they had both dealt with in the past - and Duo stretched out close the wall and Trowa lay down beside him.

"I'm sorry if I wake up and try to strangle you in the middle of the night," Duo muttered.

"Same to you," Trowa responded.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A serious shout out and thank you to everyone who has read AND reviewed - I cannot tell you enough how much it inspires me to keep writing things here. Thank you, seriously, thank you.

Another note: whoever left the Guest review for Ch. 3 regarding Duo always being left behind - I completely agree with you! Please, tell me who you are so we can discuss how much BS that always was at length!

And lastly... The Road Not Taken only has two more chapters left and I'm about halfway done with the first of those - it shall not be abandoned!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Four

"Where the hell are we going?"

It was just after midnight durin exam week and Trowa was following a determined Duo down the abandoned corridors of the exercise center on campus.

They had been studying for the past three hours but Duo eventually called a halt to their work and demanded that Trowa follow him.

"Well we're sure as hell not going to go lay on the floor of the caf and look at the stars," Duo muttered.

Trowa was brought up short by that.

Duo looked back at him and sighed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that - I mean, I _get_ it. That room is pretty damn peaceful late at night and being that close to space is… well it's one of the best ways to remember what being alive feels like."

_Of course Duo understood. _And of course Duo had spied on him. Trowa wanted to be upset about that, but it made sense and was oddly… comforting.

"But we aren't going there?" Trowa asked.

"Nah - I've got too much energy to lay still."

Trowa waited patiently and silently while Duo broke into four different locked doors before finally leading him into a large, humid room that was pitched into almost complete darkness except for a strange, blue-violet glow that emanated from the floor.

"The pool?" He questioned, looking down at the bright water.

Duo nodded.

"Closest thing to zero g," he said, a wistful note in his voice.

Trowa gave him a look.

"You forget that I'm a Terran - I don't lust after zero g the way you spacers do."

Duo returned the look.

"And you forget that I'm not an idiot. I know you like to escape orbit just as much as I do."

That much was true, and Trowa didn't see the point in fighting Duo's logic.

Beside him Duo started to strip, kicking off his shoes and then slowly, methodically undressing and folding his clothes as he went.

"How often do you do this?" Trowa had to ask.

Duo shrugged, lean muscles rippling over his exposed shoulders.

"A few nights a week, whenever I can't sleep."

"Wouldn't that be _every_ night?" Trowa had to ask.

Duo glared.

"I manage to sleep every once in a while, Mother."

Duo was completely naked before Trowa even realized it and he only had a second to look over the shorter man's pale body before he dove head first into the pool.

It wasn't long enough to catalog any injuries and Trowa sighed. He followed Duo's example and stripped down until he was completely naked.

Only when he was nudging both his and Duo's clothes farther away from the edge of the pool did he realize Duo was watching him from the water.

He arched an eyebrow in challenge, daring Duo to comment on his body. He knew what he looked like - too thin with scars decorating a fair amount of his body and a handful tattoos on his chest, shoulders and back to complete the look of a malnourished, ill adjusted soldier.

"Never figured you for the type to put ink all over your body," Duo said.

It was probably the most neutral comment he could come up with, but Trowa avoided a response and instead dove into the pool.

He swam as far down as he could, staying under until his lungs felt close to bursting and only then did he slowly allow his body to float upwards.

He surfaced with a painful gasp and _that_ first gulp of oxygen invigorated him.

Duo was treading water nearby and he gave Trowa a significant, knowing look.

Maybe this was better than lying on the floor of the caf.

Then the look on Duo's face transformed into a slow, devilish grin.

It was the only warning Trowa had before Duo pulled him under.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Five

The halls were bouncing, echoing, ricocheting.

The clatter and wail of confused civilians competed with the shrill warning klaxons.

Bodies packed the halls, frantically shuffled one way and then another when they realized there was no where to run and the red emergency lights drowned everything.

Trowa found it impossible to breathe. He tried to shoulder his way through the tide of civilians, towards the hangar, and he was standing in front of the open doors and staring at the empty cafeteria before he realized - it wasn't a hangar anymore.

Behind him they screamed in fear - they hadn't fought, but they knew what those klaxons meant: under attack. Someone was attacking the Lunar Base, the University, and there were fifty thousand civilians completely helpless.

He stared at the empty blackness of space and felt his entire being stretch out - desperate, frantic for _something_.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help these fifty thousand civilians who were _trapped_ in this coffin. He had no weapons. He had no mobile suit. He had no shuttle. He didn't even have an oxygen tank. He had _nothing_. He could save no one.

They were being invaded, attacked, and he couldn't do a damn thing.

He was a sheep, a useless moron. Just like the rest of them. Fifty thousand useless corpses -

Where the hell was Duo?

The panic clawing at Trowa's throat intensified.

_Where the hell was Duo?_

"Hey! I'm here! Tro! I'm right here, man!"

Someone tackled him, arms grabbing him tight and Trowa fought, scrambling for freedom and in the process bashing his nose against the door frame of the caf.

"It's me, Tro, it's me. I'm right here, buddy. We're fine, Tro. We're fine."

The arms were back and they felt like steel bands wrapped around his chest, and his lungs felt like bursting. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move - they were all going to die _like this_.

"It's nothing, Tro, it's just some prank. Some sick, stupid fuck - there's no attack. Please, Tro, listen to me. You're safe."

"I can't do it - I can't do _anything_," Trowa whispered to himself, his captor - an admission of his uselessness. "I can't fight anymore."

"You don't have to. Jesus, Tro, you don't _have_ to."

The arms pulled him against a firm body and Trowa realized he was completely trapped.

"Breathe with me, Tro - you gotta regulate your breathing, man. You're going to hyperventilate and pass out and I sure as shit can't carry you back to your quarters."

He had been told that before - years ago when he climbed into the cockpit of Heavyarms for the first time - _regulate your breathing or you will pass out, crash to Earth, and fail the mission_.

"In and out, Tro. Just in and out. I've got you, Tro. I've _got _you."

The arms still held him tight and he could feel strong, muscular thighs on either side of his hips, locking him in place. But there were hands, two long fingered hands rubbing circles over his chest, the touch firm but light and he focused on that.

_In and out. In and out._

"You never have to fight again, Tro, never again," the voice had lost its desperate edge and Trowa felt the black tide of terror start to recede. It was Duo.

Duo's voice. Duo's hands. Duo's body. Duo had found him.

Fifty thousand mindless, useless sheep and Duo had found him.

"I've got you, Tro, I promise. I've got you."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Six

"Do you ever want to be intimate with someone?"

The question caught Trowa completely by surprise.

It was one of their nightly study sessions and Trowa had his work spread out on one half of the desk while Duo covered the other half. He supposed it was yet another holdover from the war - they spread things out like battle plans, allowing each other to look, expecting criticism or insight at any moment.

"Not especially."

Duo's lips twitched for a solid minute before he finally gave in and smirked.

"Not _especially_?"

Trowa sighed and tossed down his pencil. He wasn't really in the mood to work on his Freshman Composition II essay in any case.

"No, not especially."

"What does that even _mean,_ man?"

"I've had a passing interest, a few times, maybe," Trowa extrapolated.

Duo nodded and then cradled his chin, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Quatre?" His voice sounded serious, sympathetic even.

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"_No_."

"Lady Une?"

"Jesus - _no_."

Duo nodded, his serious facade still intact.

"Relena?"

Trowa glared at him.

"Wu - Wufei?" Duo couldn't even say the name without laughing.

"Sex with Wufei. There's a nightmare I've never had before," Trowa muttered.

"So if it's not any of them…" Duo's eyes got comically wide. "Heero? Is Heero this passing interest?"

"No, I don't - does Heero even _have_ sex?"

Duo shrugged one shoulder.

"Beats me. We roomed together for seven weeks back when we were undercover at that fancy school? Not _once_ did the guy jack off. What about when he was with you?"

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"You mean the month he spent in a coma?"

"Yeah - I mean, that's different than the rest of the time… how exactly?"

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"Don't get me wrong, the guy is aces, but human interaction… ain't exactly his strong suit."

"Like you're one to talk," Trowa had to say.

Duo shrugged.

"Point taken."

"Do you?"

Duo looked confused.

"Do I what?"

"Ever want to be intimate with someone?"

Duo's face settled into a surprisingly neutral mask.

"I guess I don't see much point," he said eventually. He held up his right hand and wiggled the fingers. "This is the only hand that's never hurt me, well, this one too I guess," he added and held up his left. He considered the palms of his hands and then shrugged. "I don't really trust anyone else, you know? And if I can get myself off then what's the point in risking it?"

Trowa found himself nodding in agreement.

"It's just a transaction, anyway," he mused. "Just a way to get something you want or need."

"Hardly a transaction when they just _take_ what they want," Duo muttered.

Trowa considered that and he was struck by how different their experiences had been.

"I guess I was twelve or so when I learned how to… negotiate," he admitted.

Duo shook his head.

"Negotiate? I never learned how to do that."

Trowa wasn't at all surprised. He imagined Duo had fought against every single person who had ever tried to touch him. He imagined Duo had won a fair amount of those fights. But not the ones where the odds were five to one.

"There's got to be something to it, for them," Duo said, his gaze focused at a point over Trowa's shoulder.

Trowa turned to see a male and female student furtively making out in the opposite corner of the study lounge.

"Are we just too fucked up to ever want that?" Duo asked.

"I've never been in a position to _want_ that before," Trowa said, realizing the truth of those words as he said them. This was the first time in his life when he didn't _need_ to use his body to survive - he didn't need to fight or manipulate or struggle anymore. He could _want_ things now.

He swallowed hard and tried to imagine wanting _that_, but all he could think about were the heavy, sweaty men who had taken him, swallowed up his pain and bruised his flesh and left him empty and broken.

"Dunno if I ever will be," Duo said and Trowa nodded again.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Also... if anyone is interested, I've finally found tumblr. You can find me at A Very Dark Corner (stole the name from Duo's blog, I hope he doesn't mind)/ my username is ClaraxBarton.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Seven

If he had known they were going to be lying on the floor for two hours he would have brought a pillow, or at least a sweater he could use as a pillow.

It was easy to lose track of time, staring up at space like this, and it was easy to fall asleep - Trowa had done it himself at least twice.

He looked over at Duo's face, wondering if _he_ had fallen asleep - he hadn't spoken in more than an hour.

Duo was looking at him.

"Are things better?"

The question was fairly oblique and it took Trowa a moment to realize what Duo was asking him.

"You mean with _me_?"

Duo nodded, the motion a little awkward considering that he was laying on the floor.

"What, you think I was asking about… the world? The rest of them?"

Trowa shrugged. He had, for a moment.

"Nah. I think I've given them more than their fair share of my attention by this point. If my blood and tears weren't enough for them before… I've got nothing left to spare for them now."

"But you do for me?"

Duo looked as though he had been caught in a trap.

"Yeah," he said eventually, carefully. "I mean I'm not going to open a vein for you or anything but…"

"Even if I need a transfusion?"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"We don't have the same blood types. You know that."

Trowa had compiled as much intel on the other Gundam pilots as he could, years ago, so that he had the knowledge to manipulate them if need be. He wondered if Duo had done the same, or if he had stumbled upon the information later -

"Jesus. It's on your school ID," Duo mumbled. He rolled his head back so he was staring at space instead of Trowa.

"You hack into my personal records _now_, after the war, but you didn't bother to _during_ the war?"

"You didn't… you didn't matter as much back then. I mean, I either fought beside you, or you beat the shit out of me but kept me alive, or you weren't there. You were kind of a take it or leave it thing."

"I matter to you."

"Yeah. You matter to me."

Trowa looked back up at the stars as well.

"The last person who said that to me slapped me," he said, thinking back to Catharine and his monumentally failed attempt to self-destruct Heavyarms.

"You want me to? Will that make it more real for you?"

Trowa didn't bother to fight the smirk that spread across his lips.

"You can _try_," he teased.

Duo snorted and shifted to fold his hands under his head.

"Maybe some other time. You're expecting it now. The effect would be lost."

They stayed silent for another few minutes before Trowa answered Duo's initial question.

"I used to just pack everything away. All my emotions - every thought that didn't help me survive - I shoved it all to the back so I could stay alive. But now… it feels like a flood. The memories, the smells, the faces."

"So it's worse?"

"Nothing is worse than before. It's different," he finally decided. "It's terrifying."

Duo let out a long, painful sigh.

"Yeah it is."

"I don't think I could do it again. If I had to get back in a mobile suit tomorrow and fight another war - I couldn't do it."

"You ever think - you ever think they're going to do it anyway? Fight again? They weren't there. They don't know what it's like to pick brain matter out of your hair."

"Or break the edge of a knife on someone's sternum."

"They don't know what it's like to drown in blood."

"I hate them for that - for not knowing what we did. What we feel."

"Yeah, but I also… I don't want them _to_ feel this way. Ever - I don't want anyone to feel this shit."

"Do you think you'll ever be able to sleep more than an hour at a time?"

Duo rolled his head over to glare at him and Trowa returned the look.

"Do you think you'll ever stop waking up right when you hit REM sleep and have a nightmare?"

"I want to," Trowa said eventually.

Duo swallowed hard.

"Me too."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Eight

Duo called it a victory lap, but Trowa felt fairly confident that a victory lap wasn't supposed to be an all out race.

Still, as he surged through the water, desperately trying to keep the lead he had on the shorter man, he supposed it _was_ a victory lap.

Today had been the last of the final exams for the year. They had lasted an entire academic year as civilians - they hadn't killed anyone or themselves; they hadn't been arrested; they hadn't plotted any terrorist attacks. They had survived.

By the time he tagged the far edge of the pool he had managed a decent lead, and he was able to position himself against the poolside comfortably, resting his weight on one elbow and adopting a bored pose while he waited for Duo.

Duo sent a splash of water his way, thoroughly unimpressed.

"You've got longer arms and legs," Duo complained.

"Just admit that I'm better than you," Trowa shot back.

"Never. No such thing as a ground pounder _better_ than Duo Maxwe -"

The end of Duo's name was lost as Trowa shoved his head underwater.

Duo fought against him, pulling his hand and eventually succeeding in pulling Trowa under with him.

When they surfaced again Duo was smirking.

"See? Can't even manage to drown me properly."

"I'm going to miss this," Trowa decided. He lay on his back and floated.

"What? Trying to drown me? Gee, that's sweet Tro."

"I guess I'll sort of miss that part too," Trowa admitted, earning another splash of water from Duo, "but I meant _this_."

"Yeah," Duo agreed after a moment. "As great as the _Peacemillion _is, the lap pool on board ain't got nothing on this."

"You aren't going back to Hilde?"

"For the summer? No. Howard's got some work for me and I could use the cash. Plus… Hilde and I didn't part on the absolute _best_ of terms."

"She kicked you out because you can't swim faster than me?" Trowa hazarded.

"You guessed it," Duo said, forced levity in his voice.

"I'm joining back up with the circus," Trowa said into the uneasy silence that followed.

"Not shacking up with Quatre?"

"I have to visit him for a few weeks," Trowa admitted, already dreading it.

"I'm sure he'll be gentle the first time," Duo assured him, earning a splash from Trowa.

He wondered what that said about them - was it normal to joke about rape when they had both experienced it, repeatedly?

It wasn't normal, Trowa eventually decided, but maybe it was still a decent way to cope - at least they could acknowledge that it had happened.

"Have you thought about next year much?" Duo asked after a while.

"I registered for classes."

"Yeah? Anything good I can stalk you in?"

"Not unless you've grown a passionate interest in literature."

"Hey, I can read."

"Tech manuals don't count."

"I look at them for more than just the pictures, yanno."

"Keep telling yourself that," Trowa retorted.

"You like it? Literature?"

Trowa nodded and then choked on the mouthful of water that movement brought his way.

"Yes," he said eventually. "I lot more than I thought I would."

"Huh. That's cool."

"I noticed you're taking a lot of biology and chemistry."

"Now who's hacking into someone's personal records?" Duo teased him. "But yeah. I don't know… science - putting things together and taking them apart, calculating stuff - I get that. I can do that."

"Duo, you can _do_ anything. You're a genius."

"Well of course I'm a genius," Duo deflected the compliment. "But - every time I look at a list of elements, I start arranging them in my head, trying to make them into something explosive or corrosive or - I just need to prove that I can do it differently. That I can do more than murder."

Trowa swallowed hard. The raw emotion in Duo's voice had him fighting off the instinct to move away from him, but he also fought off the urge to reach out. Dunking Duo under water after that kind of confession wouldn't help anything - and Trowa didn't know how to offer him more than that.

He thought back to that day when some asshole had triggered the alarms on campus, the way Duo had held him and coaxed him back to sanity. _This_ wasn't that moment, but Trowa had to wonder, _could_ he do something like that for Duo? Could he convince him to breathe? Could he save Duo the way that Duo had saved him?

"What about living quarters?" Duo asked, interrupting Trowa's train of thought.

"What?"

"Have you thought about that? For next year?"

"No. I entered the housing lottery - I'll go where they put me I guess."

"You know they've been renovating dorms on the old campus this past year? They turned a few buildings into these suites - three singles that share a bathroom and a common room. So… pretty much a private head."

"And a third roommate," Trowa had to point out, not at all keen on the idea of sharing personal space with one of _them_. He knew that if he lived like that - with a modicum of privacy - his guard would slip. He also knew that something was bound to happen that would make him regret it.

"Well…"

That one word was filled with a world of subtext.

Trowa stopped floating and turned to look at Duo. There was an inscrutable smirk on his face. He looked like Shinigami again.

"Well what?" Trowa prompted.

"I mean… I've already hacked into the administrative server a few times, for old time's sake…"

"And because you were born a delinquent and will die a delinquent," Trowa muttered.

"A _genius _delinquent," Duo corrected with a smirk. "But it would be pretty easy to just assign us a roommate who didn't necessarily exist."

Trowa considered it.

He had shared quarters before - for almost his entire life he had had to share a tent, a bunk or a barracks with someone else. The first time he had had a room to himself had been when he was an OZ officer - here on this same base only a few years ago. But before, all of his roommates had been outsiders. Even Catharine, who allowed him to sleep on the couch in her trailer at the circus, was still an outsider to some extent. She _knew_ him, but she couldn't use her knowledge of his weaknesses to hurt him.

Duo could. Duo _was_ a murderer - he was just as dangerous as Trowa and he knew how to manipulate and hurt. He knew how to find pressure points and hone in on weakness.

_I've got you, Tro. I promise. I've got you._

He had woken up more than once with those words echoing in his head. It was hard for him to give in to the idea that Duo was there - that Duo would have his back. Trowa had been fighting alone for too damn long.

"Yeah," he said eventually. "I've never had a nonexistent roommate before. That could be fun."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Nine

**Trowa Barton**

**Roberto Kippernick**

**Duo Maxwell**

The plaque on the wall beside the dorm room bore three names in neatly printed lettering. Roberto, however, had been crossed out and replaced with a scrawl:

**Bobio**

Trowa sincerely hoped that Duo had come through, that Roberto Kippernick was a fictitious roommate, because he doubted his ability to cope with someone who willingly called himself Bobio.

_Please let it be a joke_.

He slid his key card through the reader on the door and stepped inside.

As the door closed behind him he surveyed his new surroundings.

The door opened into a common room - a room that was just slightly larger than Trowa's dorm room had been last year, with a table, four chairs and a large cabinet shoved against the back wall between two doors. To his left and right were another two doors. He looked in on the right and found the bathroom. It wasn't much, but it _was_ a private head, and he could appreciate that.

He didn't particularly care what people thought of him, but even he grew weary of the stares he drew from smooth skinned boys in the showers.

On the left was a bedroom that looked to be identical to the room Trowa had stayed in last year - a single bed shoved against one wall, a desk and dresser against another and a shell of a closet close to the door.

That left the two doors on the back wall of the common room. The left side door was open and revealed another, empty bedroom. Trowa put his duffel bag down by that door and then turned to the last door.

It was closed, and as Trowa stepped closer he sniffed the air.

Something… something smiled like the Earth.

He lifted a cautious hand to the door knob and found it unlocked.

Trowa opened the door slowly, dreading what he could possibly find on the other side.

_Please don't be Bobio_, he found himself thinking.

"Yo!"

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Duo.

"Hi," he replied and instantly felt like a moron. _Hi?_ Clearly he had spent too much time with Quatre that summer, who said things like _hi_ and _It's good to see you_ every time Trowa entered a room.

Duo was hard at work putting together some kind of complicated tube system that ran down from one of the ceiling tiles in his room towards a wire stand that was filled with plants.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing the irrigation for the little guys," Duo said absently, clearly focused on his work.

"Are you turning your room into a greenhouse?"

"Sort of. I mean, this stuff is mostly hydroponic and I'm not going to install solar panels or heat cells - but I do have this pretty wicked UV light I swiped from the junk bin on _Peacemillion_. Cost me a fair bit to repair it, but it's still cheaper than a brand new one."

Trowa felt like he had walked into an alternate universe.

"But why?"

Duo turned to him and frowned.

"Because the plants won't grow as well without it?" He sounded concerned for Trowa's intelligence. "I mean… we're in space. There's no direct light - hell, there's not even a window - which really sucks because when I was looking at the floorplans for these suites it showed windows. I'm thinking they had to cut back during the renovations."

Trowa looked back up at the ceiling and the trail of clear tubes. Duo had chosen the room closest to the bathroom.

"You wanted the water supply - that's why you wanted a private head."

Duo nodded.

"Yeah. I guess I _could_ have tried to rig this up to the main head but…"

Trowa had to shake his head.

"You used me for water for your science experiments."

Duo looked sheepish for a moment.

"Well… it's _still_ a private head. Plus the common room is pretty sweet. We won't have to fight for table space with the kids trying to feel each other up in the study lounges anymore."

"True."

Trowa shrugged. He wasn't actually upset, and he should have known Duo had an ulterior motive for this - he wasn't going to go to this much trouble and break _this_ many rules just so they could have a private head.

"So is this your room or _Bobio's_?" It was hard to say the name without grimacing.

Duo smirked.

"Nah, this is mine. Bobio is stuck with the room closest to the door. Tragic, but I'm sure we'll appreciate his sacrifice if anyone ever storms the place. They'll check his room first and it will buy us the time we need to make an escape."

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"You realize that if they have a large enough invasion force they'll just check all of the doors at once."

Duo arched an eyebrow, mirroring Trowa's expression.

"So you took the room closest to the hall?"

"No. I'm not an idiot. They can kill Bobio first."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter 10

It was the third night back and Trowa was drifting in that space between wakefulness and sleep that he feared the most. His senses felt dull and slow, but he couldn't seem to motivate himself to wake up _or_ sleep and so he drifted, waiting for something to push him one way or another.

It reminded him of space, of the time Quatre had destroyed his suit and he had drifted, without thought or purpose, and he could practically feel the chill of space against his skin now, as he curled up on his bed and tried to think of nothing.

Harsh, rasping gasps assaulted his ears.

They were faint, audible only because Trowa had shoved his bed against the wall he shared with Duo's room, but they were enough to wake him up.

He listened to the panicked breathing, the sounds of someone choking and struggling and he felt his own breathing become shallow and labored.

Trowa had heard men breathe like that before. Gun shots to the lungs, blood and liquid drowning them from the inside out. Cracked helmets and faulty space suits, leaking air slowly until they noticed they were dying and their last gasps of life before death won. Explosions that ripped apart buildings and people and little enough of a man left to even make sound.

His legs were unsteady as he swung them over the bed and stood. The cold floor grounded him, reminded him that he could feel, and that reminded him that he could breathe.

Duo's door was locked, but these were old, cheap latch locks and he opened it with minimal effort.

The UV light cast a faint, blue-silver glow on the room and Trowa winced before his eyes adjusted.

Duo was in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs and a grimace on his face and he gasped again, his hands clutching the pillow under his face so hard his knuckles were white.

Catharine had tried to wake Trowa from a nightmare once, and for days after she had avoided looking directly at him and she had cradled her sprained wrist as though it was broken.

Trowa _could_ have broken her wrist - could have killed her - and it was only a lucky thing that he hadn't permanently hurt her.

He approached Duo cautiously. He wasn't about to reach out and shake him awake, the mistake that Catharine had made with him.

"Duo." He spoke the name softly, firmly but the other man couldn't hear him.

"Duo," he said it louder and blue eyes shot open at the same moment that Duo moved backwards, shoving himself against the wall, curling his body around his knees.

Trowa swallowed hard and forced his mind to stay where he was but it was hard. Duo scuttling backwards like that - Trowa had seen it before, had _done_ it before - and it was difficult to see that now, in this place, at this time.

Duo was still wild eyed and Trowa held up his hands, palms out, showing he had no weapons.

Duo stared at him for a moment longer and then he closed his eyes and seemed to focus on breathing for several minutes.

When he opened his eyes again he looked tired and lost, but the terror was gone. He swallowed hard and it seemed like he was struggling with what to say.

"Maybe I should have had you sign a waiver before we moved in together," Duo muttered.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"You already warned me a year ago that you might wake up and try to strangle me," he pointed out, referencing the night he had slept in Duo's bed.

Duo nodded rapidly and it was clear he was still struggling against whatever demons he had been grappling with moments before.

"I can take first watch," Trowa offered and his words startled both of them.

"You… you don't mind?" Duo had never sounded more vulnerable and Trowa fought back his urge to run away.

"No," he said and forced himself to approach the bed.

Duo watched him apprehensively and Trowa found himself questioning his sanity as he eased himself down on the bed beside Duo and positioned one of the pillows under his head.

He stared up at the ceiling, at the play of the UV light on the dimples of the ceiling tiles and beside him Duo lay back down, stretching out his legs and folding his hands over his stomach.

"I really only wanted to use you for access to the private head," Duo apologized.

Trowa gave in to an almost hysterical urge to laugh and he chuckled. Beside him, Duo grinned slightly.

"This is why no one ever let you plan missions," Trowa said.

"Because I never account for the possibility of a psychopath not being able to sleep?"

"I always thought of you as more of a sociopath," Trowa mused.

"Trowa, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," Duo sighed.

They lay together in silence for what could have been hours before Duo spoke again.

"It's not always that bad."

"But it is most of the time?" Trowa guessed.

Duo nodded.

"Different, though. It's not always the - different memories, different nightmares, yanno?"

Trowa nodded. He did know.

"I just haven't adjusted to being back on base yet, s'all. Just need to remember no one is going to turn off the air supply and I'm not going to die like that."

Trowa felt the rawness in Duo's voice like a scratch of a knife across his skin.

"I'm here," he assured Duo. "I'm not going to let you die like that."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Eleven

"Alright, last year you provided the loot - this year it's my turn."

Duo stepped into their common room and unceremoniously dropped a medium sized box on the table. It landed with a thud.

Trowa looked over it skeptically. It didn't sound like anything edible, maybe Duo had purchased explosives and planned to blow up the former Lunar Base to celebrate Victory Day?

It wasn't a very fair speculation. The past few months had seen alterations to their routine from last year, but they had also seen improvements.

The first few weeks had been rough, as they settled into the idea of seeing each other multiple times every day, as they came to terms with the fact that nearly every single night they had to wake each other up from a nightmare and then move over in bed so they could share it for the rest of the night, as they learned that neither of them liked to do any form of communication before eight a.m., as they learned that they were still surrounded by civilians who _still_ had no idea what Duo and Trowa had been through.

Their common room had become a safe haven, and Trowa found himself escaping to it whenever he couldn't stand to be around people anymore, and the fact that Duo was often right there with him was an unexpected solace, not an aggravation. Considering their sleeping arrangements, Trowa spent far less time alone this year than he had the previous and he was surprisingly comfortable with that.

Maybe it was because he was sleeping more. For the first time in what felt like his entire life, Trowa was able to sleep for more than a few hours each night. It seemed to completely defy logic, but if Duo was in bed beside him, Trowa could sleep.

It was weird, and twisted, but he felt _safe_ with Duo there - despite the very real possibility that they could seriously hurt each other, he trusted Duo.

But that didn't mean he trusted Duo's box.

Duo stood there, grinning, clearly waiting for Trowa to open the box.

Reluctantly, Trowa gave in and cautiously lifted the cardboard flaps. Inside the box was… another box.

Trowa lifted the slightly smaller, dense plastic box out of the cardboard box and frowned.

It was an airtight container, and his earlier suspicions regarding Duo's version of "loot" in conjunction with Victory Day returned.

"For the love of - just open it." Duo didn't seem to appreciate Trowa's caution.

Trowa pressed on the indention just below the lid and the box opened with a pressurized hiss and a cloud of dry ice smoke wafted upwards.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

He looked in the box and didn't bother to hide his shock.

"How the hell did you afford all of this?"

Inside the box was a bottle of champagne - and while Trowa wasn't a connoisseur he had seen the label on a bottle at Quatre's house, so clearly it was a decent brand - a package of fresh strawberries, a wedge of soft cheese, a chocolate bar, a spicy smoked sausage and -

Trowa reached in and pulled out a silver foil wrapped bar and sneered in disgust.

"What _is_ this?"

Duo grabbed it from him and held it protectively.

"It's freeze dried milk-free ice cream."

"Why on earth did you _buy_ it?"

"Because it's good."

Trowa just shook his head.

"It's freeze-dried ice cream and it's _milk free_. What part of that is possibly good?"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"Pardon me for evolving past the point of enjoying _milk_," he snarled.

"Oh."

Terrans and spacers were in different in a lot of ways - radiation exposure on the colonies had had a profound impact on the colonists - but the thing that Trowa almost always forgot was that most colonists were lactose intolerant. Milk and dairy products were expensive and not particularly nutritious, so there simply wasn't much demand for them in the colonies - especially the poor colonies. Quatre had grown up surrounded by luxury and as a result loved dairy products - his genes had likely been manipulated to remove any intolerance for it, Trowa realized now. Duo, on the other hand, came from a poor colony and his genes were likely more of a mixed bag than even Trowa's own.

He looked back down at the box, at the soft cheese and the chocolate bar.

"Then why did you get these?"

Duo shrugged.

"I figured you'd like them - I've seen you eat chocolate before and the guy at the import store said that cheese was his best."

Trowa had to repeat his earlier question.

"How did you afford all of this?"

Duo looked sheepish and scratched at the back of his neck.

Trowa narrowed his eyes. He had seen Duo do that a few times, in the past, usually before revealing that he had done something very, very far outside of mission parameters.

"Well, I was just going to buy the chocolate, the sausage and the ice cream -"

"Please don't call it that. It's an insult. To all ice cream everywhere."

Duo rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I was picking out which flavor of _ice_ _cream_ I wanted and the guy who owned the store kind of… recognized me."

"What did he say?" Considering Duo's hints about what had happened the last time he had been recognized, Trowa found himself looking over Duo's body. He didn't seem injured.

"He said thank you and he loaded me down with all of this shit."

"I should have gone with you," Trowa mused. "We could have gotten more."

"Oh? Did your face get shown to the entire Earthsphere when you were captured and your Gundam destroyed? I missed that broadcast."

Trowa snorted.

"Of course not. I was never stupid enough to be captured. But I _look_ like a war hero - stoic, refined, tragic."

"Tragically delusional," Duo muttered, but his lips twitched upwards and Trowa allowed himself to share the grin. "Oh! Almost forgot the best part."

Duo reached into the cardboard box and pulled out a long, flat black box.

Trowa regarded it curiously as Duo lifted the lid and revealed a chess set.

"We played a few times, back in the day and, I figured…"

Duo trailed off and Trowa looked at him.

He looked anxious and hopeful.

Trowa reached out and picked up one of the black pawns. It was strange. They _had_ played chess back during the war. Trowa had first learned chess from the captain of the mercenaries, and he had played off and on over the years, but he had never really enjoyed the game.

Except for the few times he had played with Duo, who played the game as recklessly as he played the game of life.

"If I lose you won't make me eat that … _ice cream_, will you?"

Duo sighed.

"It's seriously really fucking good," he muttered.

"That's what they said about the ZERO system," Trowa reminded him. "And look how _that_ turned out."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Twelve

"One of these days, I'm going to beat you."

Trowa shook his head in pity.

"Will that be the day you tie my hands behind my back and push me into the pool backwards?"

Duo tried to splash him, but Trowa slipped under the water and reached out, grabbing Duo's ankles and pulling him down with him.

He let the other man twist out of his grip and together they swam down to the bottom of the pool and for a moment it felt like time stopped.

They didn't do this too often - they both spent a fair amount of time underwater, pushing their limits, but rarely did they do it together. It was even more rare for them to look directly at each other, exposed and illuminated.

Trowa looked at the way Duo's hair floated around his face and the way the pool lights made his scars glow and he wondered what Duo saw, when Duo looked at him.

Eventually they gave into the call of oxygen and drifted to the surface.

Duo was still looking at him and Trowa found himself reluctant to look away.

"When did you get that one?" Duo looked away from Trowa's face, breaking the moment, and gestured to the tattoo over Trowa's heart.

It was the alchemical symbol for Mercury. Trowa imagined Duo recognized the symbol - it wasn't used that often these days, but he was willing to bet money that the first time Duo had seen his tattoos he had committed them to memory and researched possible meanings for them.

"A few months before Operation Meteor began."

"The first time?"

Trowa nodded.

"Quicksilver? Do you think you're so unpredictable and changeable?"

They didn't usually do this either - guess about their pasts.

"You think I'm not?" He challenged.

Duo shrugged. They were close enough that their feet touched as they treaded the water.

"I dunno. Maybe you _were_? Hell, I never knew what you were going to do - never really knew who you were."

"Me either," Trowa said. "I'm not sure I do now."

"Do you ever regret it? Keeping his name?"

"I have to go by something."

Duo sighed.

"Don't we all."

Trowa had never really considered that, the fact that Duo Maxwell wasn't the name his former comrade had been born with.

"You made your own name, at least," he offered.

Duo gave him a dark look.

"I _took_ this name, same way I took everything else in life."

Trowa decided to steer them clear of whatever path this conversation was taking.

"What are your plans for the winter break?"

"Dunno. Escaping this place for two weeks."

"Any thoughts on _where_ you will escape to?"

"Howard's on Earth, and there's no way I can afford a shuttle down there. I figure I'll try to hop a few shuttles around the colonies - hey, you think Quatre'd like me to come visit?"

It was too perfect of an opening for Trowa to resist.

"I'm sure he would love for you to visit. Come with me."

"What? Come _with_ you? You're visiting him over the break?"

Trowa nodded.

"The circus is dirtside - they've got some gig near San Francisco."

"Jesus. So you're spending it with him instead?" Duo looked sincerely devastated for Trowa.

"It won't be that bad - especially if you come with me."

He wasn't entirely sure _why_ he wanted Duo to come with him - well, he knew why: he wanted the backup because while Quatre wasn't _that_ bad, he was bad enough.

"Trowa, I spent a _month_ with him during the war. Thirty days."

"I know."

Duo sighed in exasperation.

"You know how he does that thing?"

"What thing?"

"That thing where he annoys the shit out of you?"

Trowa had to struggle to keep from laughing. He forced himself to look confused. Duo sighed again.

"When he asks you _how you feel_? Or tells you shit about himself and his dreams for the future?"

"Oh, that thing. Yes. I know that thing."

Duo looked on the verge of dunking him under water.

"Do you know how many times he made me contemplate suicide and surrender during that month? _Too many._ And now you want me to go with you, to visit him? For how long?"

"Two weeks."

"Two - _two weeks_? That's the entire break! You seriously think you can spend that much time with him and not lose it?"

"There's always that risk. But that's what makes life worth living - risks."

Duo looked at him like he was crazy, but eventually he sighed.

"Fine. I'll go with you to Quatre's - on one condition." Duo looked deadly serious as he held up a single finger and glared at Trowa.

"Okay."

"You're going to buy me six - _seven_ - packages of freeze-dried ice cream and you're going to eat them with me. And enjoy yourself."

"That sounds like three conditions," Trowa pointed out.

"Whatever. That's the only way I'll agree to this demented vacation."

Trowa rolled his eyes but he gave in.

"Fine. I'll help you eat seven packages of cardboard mulch."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Thirteen

It was after midnight when Trowa gave up on sleeping alone. By this point, he was simply too used to Duo's presence.

There was, of course, the troubling comment Quatre had made at dinner, when he reached under the table and tapped Trowa's knee and had leaned over to whisper "we should spend some time together, alone, later."

Duo hadn't heard the words or seen the gesture, but he had given Trowa a knowing look, an amused smirk that somehow conveyed a hint of concern.

So Trowa's silent trek through the house that night was two-fold: he was used to being near Duo and he absolutely did _not_ want to be together, alone, with Quatre.

He found Duo's room easily enough, but he wasn't surprised that it was at the other end of the guest wing from his own - Quatre had acquiesced to Trowa's insistence that Duo accompany him for this holiday visit, but he hadn't been entirely thrilled at the prospect of having his former comrade as a houseguest.

When he reached Duo's door he tried the lock, not surprised to find it locked, and it took him a moment to work the door open.

Duo looked up at his entrance, one hand reaching behind him and Trowa had to arch an eyebrow at that. Duo had a weapon?

The other man gave him a sheepish look and held his hand out, revealing a letter opener.

"Better than nothing," Duo muttered.

"You really think you need to protect yourself from _Quatre_?"

"Maybe I was protecting myself from _you_ - look at this, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. Sounds nefarious to me."

Trowa knew he was joking, but maybe his presence _was_ unwelcome.

It was one thing to check on each other in the dorm rooms, to keep watch over each other while they slept - but maybe here the rules had changed?

"Nefarious?"

"Don't tell me you've never heard someone say nefarious before?"

"Only when they were referring to Treize Khushrenada. Or -"

"Quatre," they both said together and grinned.

Duo held out the letter opener.

"Speaking of, you probably need this more than I do. After all, I'm not the one that evil genius has his heart set on."

Trowa took the letter opener but set it down on the nightstand beside the bed.

"A letter opener isn't going to do me much good."

Duo nodded in sympathy.

"Yeah. After all, he's got the entire Maganac Corps - you'll need at least two more letter openers to get through them."

Trowa snorted a laugh.

"Trouble sleeping?" Duo hazarded.

"First time for everything," Trowa joked and Duo's lips quirked upwards.

"Plus you're afraid that the moment you close your eyes Quatre's going to sneak into your room."

Trowa nodded. He knew Duo was joking, but it _was_ a very real fear and possibility.

Duo gestured to the bed.

"This thing is a hell of a lot bigger than our singles back on campus, we might as well share it."

"We share the singles back on campus too," Trowa pointed out even as he walked closer to the bed.

"Most of the time, yeah," Duo agreed.

They pulled back the comforter and sheets and lay down.

The bed was _much_ bigger than the ones they crammed into on campus. It was possible for Trowa to completely stretch out and not touch Duo at all.

"Wonder if there's a way I could smuggle some extra mattresses into our rooms? This is nice."

Duo rolled over and looked at him.

"I think even _you_ would have trouble smuggling a mattress down a crowded hallway."

"That's the trouble with you, Tro, no faith. No faith at all."

"I have faith in you to save me from Quatre if he finds me here."

"Nah. That's not faith, that's desperation."

"All the same - you _promised_," Trowa reminded him.

Duo's shoulders tensed.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he admitted and then dramatically sighed. "Fine. I will throw myself at him and sacrifice my body."

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"As great as your body is, it's not mine - I'm not sure how much of a distraction that will be for him. So I'm probably just going to jump out of the window and run while he has his way with you."

"Thanks buddy. Your friendship means the world to me too."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Fourteen

"You know… we might as well just…" Duo trailed off.

Trowa looked over at him. Duo looked like he was actually struggling to think of what to say. That was a first.

"We might as well just… plot to overthrow Relena?" Trowa prompted.

Duo gave him a look.

"No. We might as well just pick a bed and sleep in it, don't you think? I mean, we end up in the same bed every night anyway - which ever one of us freaks out first wakes up the other and we wind up together. Wouldn't it just save time if we started _out_ together?"

"Like when we were at Quatre's house?"

Duo nodded. He still seemed uneasy. Trowa wondered if it was because he, like Trowa, found his dependence on Duo discomforting. Trowa appreciated the fact that he could _sleep_ now, at least for four or five hours, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the knowledge that he could _only_ sleep for that long if Duo was there with him. Still, if his other option was to lay in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling until his eyes were raw and he had to close them - only to wake up an hour or two later as nightmares descended on him; or worse, to wake up when he heard the choked, frantic gasps from Duo's room as the other man struggled with his own demons.

"It would be more efficient," Trowa allowed.

Duo's lips quirked.

"Efficiency first, like I always say."

"You have _never_ said that," Trowa pointed out.

"Have to - just now."

Trowa shook his head.

Duo scratched the back of his neck.

"So… my room or yours?"

"What about Kippernick's room?" Trowa suggested.

Duo nodded.

"Yeah - neutral ground. I like it. You think he'll mind?" Duo added the question with a smirk.

"We can ask him next time we see him," Trowa muttered. He checked his watch. It was close to two a.m. No wonder Duo had been hinting about sleeping arrangements.

Duo caught his eye.

"Guess I'll see you in there?" He said, and for some reason Trowa felt strangely nervous as he nodded in response.

Maybe, he reflected as he changed into sleep shorts and waited for Duo to brush his teeth, it was because this was the first time they had more or less admitted that they wanted this. Every other time, before Quatre's, they had waited until they _needed_ to join each other in bed. Even at Quatre's, Trowa still considered that necessity - there was no _way_ he could stay in his room there and risk Quatre and 'alone time.'

He joined Duo on the bed in Kippernick's room and had to ask.

"Is this making things better or worse?"

Duo immediately knew what he was talking about.

"I sure as hell don't think that being able to sleep is _worse_," Duo said, but he seemed uneasy.

"But we're twenty. We shouldn't need to sleep with someone to be able to sleep."

"Probably not," Duo agreed. "We could stop."

"We just agreed to start doing it _more_," Trowa pointed out.

"It's not normal," Duo said after a moment. "But we aren't normal. Maybe every other twenty year old on this campus is sharing a bed with someone because they're fucking - but they haven't been through the shit we have. Yeah, we're going to have to figure out how to sleep alone eventually, but I'm not sure I'm in the right place to do it tonight."

Trowa had to nod in agreement. It was exactly how he felt.

"Of course, you play your cards right and you can just jump into Quatre's bed - you'll never have to sleep alone again."

"You realize that I could smother you with pillow and make it look like an accident?" Trowa held his pillow up threateningly. "I could blame it all on Kippernick."

Duo's blue eyes sparkled.

"Yeah - and as soon as the news vids were released, you know who'd show up to comfort you? Quatre."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Feedback is really, really delicious.

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex (and I mean that last one this time)

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Fifteen

Trowa rarely fantasized and even more rarely found himself dreaming about sex, but as he woke up he found himself still tangled in lustful thoughts of long, strong legs and long fingered hands.

The bed was warm and he found himself wedged against something firm and smooth and he pressed forward experimentally, searching for friction.

And immediately realized that he was grinding against Duo's ass.

He snapped completely awake and eased his body away, his heart racing and his brain trying to assemble some kind of explanation for what the _hell _he had just done.

Duo's entire body was rigid and his breathing was shallow and controlled.

Trowa could feel how tense Duo was, could feel the set of his abdominal muscles through his t-shirt, the warmth and firmness radiating outwards to Trowa's hand, resting on Duo's side.

He stared at his hand, wondering when and how that had happened.

How had any of _this_ happened? Or a better question, how had this _not_ happened before? They were twenty and had been sharing a bed for months - how had Trowa never woken up like this before?

Because he always woke up alone. Even before they had started to share Kippernick's bed, Duo was always gone by the time Trowa woke up. He wondered - did he do this to Duo every morning? Was this just the first time he had woken up before Duo escaped from him?

He felt a wave of nausea at that thought.

Trowa could only imagine Duo's anger, his own disgust and his fear. They weren't supposed to be like this.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"It's fine." Duo's voice was as tense as his body. "I just didn't want to get up yet. I - it's just morning wood, man. I've got the same problem over here."

For some reason that knowledge did not make Trowa relax any.

He stared at his hand again, at the way his thumb rested just on the hem of Duo's shirt and he eased it down, slipping it under the hem and touched Duo's skin.

Duo sucked in a breath, but he didn't move away and Trowa was suddenly hyper aware of their proximity, of the way Duo's hair tickled his nose, of the soft cotton of Duo's shirt against his chest, of the tent in Duo's shorts.

Trowa eased his thumb farther under, searching for a curved scar he had seen on Duo's lower back. He found it and ran the pad of his thumb over the soft, slick tissue.

"Shrapnel," Duo answered Trowa's unspoken question.

Trowa moved his entire hand upwards and around, until he found a mass of scar tissue on Duo's lower ribs.

It was a large and flat, with the whorls of a burn scar.

"Chemical fire, back when I started working with the Sweepers."

He traced across that scar and to the next, a small, dimpled circle that was repeated on Duo's body and on Trowa's.

"Base infiltration. I got in just fine, but I made some friends on the way out."

He swallowed hard and eased his hand downward, towards Duo's groin.

Duo's left hand grabbed his wrist, his fingers gripping him tightly enough that he had to hold still.

"You don't have to do that," Duo said and his voice sounded like an open wound.

Trowa considered Duo's words.

He didn't _have_ to. Did Duo think this was some kind of transaction? Some way for Trowa to apologize? For him to gain the upper hand?

Did Trowa think that himself?

They had spoken about sex in the past, had joked about it and hinted at the awfulness of it, but Trowa had never pictured the two of them having it.

"Do you want me to?"

Duo drew in a ragged breath.

"I don't know," he admitted, but after a moment he relaxed his hold on Trowa's wrist. His fingers remained, but his grip was looser, and Trowa could move his hand again.

The only question was, should he move it away from Duo? Or continue on his initial path?

"Lift your hips."

Duo complied and Trowa tugged down his shorts and boxers, allowing Duo's erection to spring free.

He took a moment to look down at it. He had seen Duo naked countless times by this point, but only in the pool, where the cold water showcased absolutely nothing about either of their cocks, even if they had been erect. It was similar to his own, a little slimmer and a little longer, but close enough in size that it felt familiar as he fit his palm around the stiff length.

He felt Duo shudder at the contact.

Trowa gave an experimental tug and Duo's fingers tightened again.

It took him a few minutes to find the right pressure and the right pace. Duo was holding himself almost completely still and the sounds he made were barely audible - ragged inhales and even more ragged exhales, but no noise, no words. Nothing that would indicate he was experiencing pleasure, but also nothing to signify fear or disgust, or pain.

Finally, Trowa found the right rhythm and Duo's hips were flexing and his fingers were digging into the skin around Trowa's wrist and then he came with a shudder and a sigh.

They continued to lie in the bed, silent and still, until Duo moved Trowa's hand away and sat up, his back to Trowa.

Trowa fought the urge to apologize, but he knew the tense set of Duo's shoulders was not an expression of thanks or pleasure.

"What the fuck is _wrong _with me?" Duo muttered, and Trowa could see that he was struggling to breath.

"What did I do wrong?" Trowa needed to know.

Duo shook his head.

"Nothing. Nothing. Jesus - that's the first time _anyone_ has ever touched me like that and not - not hurt me and I'm having a fucking panic attack over a _hand job_."

Trowa swallowed hard and pushed back all of the darkness Duo's words made him remember.

"You have to regulate your breathing, Duo. Don't think about it - don't think about any of it. Just breathe. In and out. In and out."

He watched Duo's back, watched him continue to fight and he saw the moment when Duo regained control of himself.

"I… I'm going to take a shower."

Duo rose from the bed and pulled his shorts back up before walking out of the room.

Trowa fell back onto the bed and tried to ignore the crushing weight of defeat.

_What the hell had he done?_


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex (more of that sex thing).

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Sixteen

Duo stood in the doorway to Kippernick's room, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, a frown drawing his eyebrows together.

"Would you even enjoy me touching you?"

The question seemed to startle both of them.

In light of the fact that these were the first words Duo had spoken to him all week, Trowa figured he could take a moment to consider his response.

Despite the fact that things had been anything _but_ normal between them, their routine had continued. He and Duo still shared the same bed, but Duo had gone back to waking up and leaving before Trowa. They had eaten lunch together every day, had studied together every night - but they hadn't spoken.

Trowa hadn't realized just how much he relied on the sound of Duo's voice. The silence between them had been agonizing, but Trowa had had no idea of what to say, how to break it, how to fix this.

He wasn't sure _this_ would fix it. But then again, maybe he and Duo were beyond the point of being fixed? Maybe they just needed to become something else? They couldn't remain like this, couldn't be what they had been anymore.

"That depends. If you tell me to lay down and think of Quatre, I'm probably going to vomit."

Duo's frown eased and his lips twitched into a smile.

"Want to think about Wufei instead?"

"I'd rather think about you."

His honesty surprised both of them.

Duo nodded and stepped into the room.

"I've never done this before - I mean, I've been jacking off for years, but I've never touched anyone else."

Trowa frowned, wondering just how Duo had managed to avoid that, and then he remembered - Duo fought everything. A rapist would have to be beyond stupid to invite Duo to touch the tool he planned to violate him with. He wondered, idly, if Duo had ever managed to exact punishment on any of the men who had hurt him. He certainly hoped so.

Duo knelt on the bed, between Trowa's legs, and considered him with a serious expression.

"Mind if we take off your shorts?" Duo asked.

Trowa lifted his hips and helped Duo pull them off and then he lay back down, completely naked, while Duo looked at him.

Duo slept in a shirt and shorts but Trowa had never been comfortable sleeping in a shirt. He woke up too often, the remembered smell of burning flesh in his mouth, to be comfortable with a shirt on. Now, however, he felt incredibly vulnerable before Duo.

Duo drew in a breath and then licked the palm of his right hand before reaching down to touch Trowa.

He shivered at the cold, slick touch, but Duo held him firmly, working him to erection and then wetting his palm again.

Trowa had no idea what to do with his hands, so he clutched the sheets tightly. It felt good, whatever Duo was doing to him, better than what Trowa did to himself, and he found it increasingly difficult to stay still.

Two of Duo's fingers moved downwards, stroking over his balls and then glancing over the sensitive flesh below and Trowa's hips jerked forward so that he was practically in Duo's lap.

Duo's left hand moved to Trowa's right thigh, resting there for a moment before he applied firm, gentle pressure and started to rub circles against Trowa's flesh.

Trowa didn't know if Duo was encouraging him or soothing him - maybe some combination of the two - but it was only a moment later when he came, the force of it taking him completely by surprise and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from crying out.

Duo just sat there, looking at him, rubbing circles on his thigh.

The sheer relief Trowa felt was mind numbing. He hadn't known he was afraid, until that moment of release, that it might not happen - that Duo might turn away or hurt him. But he hadn't. Duo had taken nothing from him - not his pride and not his pain.

Even now, he sat there, gently reminding Trowa what it felt like to have someone touch him.

He had to close his eyes and focus on breathing for a moment. It was too much - the pleasure, the relief, the _kindness_.

"What do you need?" Duo asked, and his hand stilled. "Do I - do you want me to go?"

"You did this to me before," Trowa said and he reached for Duo's hand. "That day, in the hall."

He opened his eyes and caught Duo's gaze.

Duo nodded.

"How did you learn that?"

"Sister Helen," Duo said, the words a painful rush. He took a moment, shook his head, and then continued. "Whenever something happened - whenever I _did _something and thought for sure this was it, they were going to throw me out. She would just sit me down in a chair and do that," he repeated the gesture, tracing circles on Trowa's thigh once again, "on my back or my chest until Father Maxwell came and read some passage in the Bible about forgiveness and then they kept me. They always kept me."

Duo looked down at the evidence of Trowa's orgasm.

"I'm going to grab a towel for you. If you… if you want me to come back?"

Trowa nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Duo got off the bed and walked out of the room. A moment later Trowa heard the sound of water and then Duo was back, passing him a warm, wet towel.

"Thanks." He cleaned himself off and pulled his shorts up and then he moved over on the bed, giving Duo plenty of room to join him again.

Duo slid under the sheets and rolled over onto his side so that he could look at Trowa.

They stared at each other in the darkness until Duo finally spoke up.

"I think it's going to get better, Tro. It has to."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Seventeen

Tomorrow morning was going to arrive too soon.

For once, Trowa was anything but hopeful about the future. He had spent his entire life wanting for one day to pass into the next, wishing for his past to get farther and farther behind him and for the present to cease.

But not today, not tonight.

There was no race this time, no victory lap to celebrate the end of another school year.

Instead, they swam together, pushing themselves deep into the water and holding on, bodies twined together, their hearts hammering and lungs bursting with need, but it was nothing compared to the anxiety of impending loss.

It wasn't just the steady sleep, anymore, and it had become more than shared physical release.

Duo knew him. Really knew him on a level that Trowa himself didn't understand. For the first time in his life, Trowa felt like someone, like _him_. For the first time, Trowa Barton was real. He had thoughts and feelings and he existed for more than survival.

Trowa Barton _wanted_.

When they finally surfaced their faces were close enough to touch, noses bumping and water dripping from Duo's forehead down to Trowa's lips.

"When did you get this one?"

Duo's right hand rested on Trowa's back, just below his left shoulder, his fingers splayed across the Roma Chakra there.

"When I came back to the circus, after the first war." He still vividly remembered that night - Catharine slapped him again, held him and cried all over him. And then August had pried her off and led Trowa into the tent, passed him a bottle of moonshine, and told him to strip.

Duo's hand was still on his shoulder, and if they had been standing on dry land it would have felt like they were about to start dancing.

Trowa nudged his nose against Duo's and the other man smirked.

"Come with me to the circus. You can get one of your own." It wasn't strictly true - there was no way August would give this tattoo to just anyone, and even less chance that Catharine would allow Duo, of all people, to stay in their trailer.

"Yeah, because Catharine would just _love_ to see me again," Duo muttered.

"She's not Quatre's biggest fan either," Trowa told him.

"Is that supposed to comfort me? In her mind I'm in the same category as _Quatre_?"

Trowa smirked.

"There are worse categories to be in."

"Oh really? Like what?"

Trowa couldn't think of one and so he reached out to take hold of Duo's erection. It had been nudging against him, under the water, and as soon as he wrapped his hand around it Duo closed his eyes and drew in a shuddery breath.

Duo reached for him and they stroked each other, their sharp hips rocking together and their feet tangled.

They went under water, because it was difficult to tread water, avoid kicking each other, and concentrate on getting off at the same time.

Duo gasped under water, a mistake that led him to surface immediately.

"We're going to fucking drown," Duo coughed, but his hand was still doing amazing things, still driving Trowa toward orgasm.

"Okay," Trowa said. It seemed a logical risk to take.

Duo laughed, that rare, throaty chuckle that made Trowa think of champagne and chess.

But Trowa realized that drowning, while giving each other hand jobs, wasn't the really the way he wanted to die. He swam backwards, close enough to a lane line, and wrapped his free arm around it.

Duo joined him, copying his pose and then latching back on to Trowa's cock as though he needed it to stay afloat.

They still went under and when Trowa came he moaned, his lungs flooded with water and he spent the next five minutes draped over the lane line, Duo pounding his back, and they grinned like maniacs.

"Maybe some snorkel gear for next time," Duo mused.

"I'm not sure there's much of a market for snorkel gear on the _Moon_," Trowa had to point out.

Duo smirked.

"Probably not, but I'm sure your pal Quatre has some - you're visiting him again?"

Trowa nodded.

Duo sighed.

"Well, I'll say a prayer for your safe keeping every night."

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"You're working for Howard again?"

Duo shook his head.

"No, I'm staying with Hilde, actually. Told her I'd give her a hand setting up shop."

Trowa didn't know what, exactly, had caused the two to part before, and he hadn't realized until now that things had been repaired between them.

Duo was looking at him strangely, a wary expression that meant he had to say something and he already regretted it.

"Don't… don't get yourself killed or anything," Duo finally said after he had put it off for as long as he could.

It was the nearest Duo had ever come to saying he needed Trowa. There was too much Trowa wanted to say, too many requests.

But Duo was looking at him, that look he wore when they were underwater and could see each other, could see past the surface.

So Trowa nodded.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you for feedback!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Eighteen

"She wants me to go down on her."

"Well, has she gone down on you?"

"No, not yet - some bullshit about needing to _trust_ me?"

"Dude, you should sixty-nine - tell her you want to experience it together."

"Yeah… shit, that's brilliant."

"I know man - that way she's got to return the favor!"

"But what if, what if she farts on my face?"

It wasn't the worst conversation they had overheard in the caf, but Trowa was forced to look away from Duo's face and stare at the unappetizing ground meat substitute on his plate.

Across the table, Duo actually had to slap his hands over his face, completely covering it, and his shoulders started to shake.

"Are you crying or laughing?" Trowa asked him after several minutes of it _not_ stopping.

Duo nodded.

"This is why we should never eat in the caf," he muttered.

"Dude, if she farts on your face, dump her. That is so not cool."

Duo hunched over and Trowa had to reach out and push back his bangs so they didn't touch the food on his plate.

"You think? I mean, she's really hot."

"Fart. In your face. That's not something you can ever forget or ever forgive."

"Let's go," Trowa sighed and grabbed Duo's plate.

By this point they had attracted more attention than the conversation about… sex and farting.

Duo drew in a deep, ragged breath that reminded Trowa of the nights he woke up, struggling with nightmares.

Duo rubbed at his face, his eyes were wide and wet and his cheeks were red, but he took his plate back from Trowa and followed him to the trash and then out of the caf.

They both had classes to get to, but by unspoken agreement they went back to their dorm room.

"Are you okay?" Trowa had to ask Duo once they were safely inside.

Duo nodded rapidly, but his lip, and then choked on a laugh.

"I just… I can't…" he stopped trying to form words and laughed again.

Trowa waited for him to catch his breath.

"Okay. I'm good now."

He didn't mind hearing Duo laugh - he enjoyed it, actually - but this wasn't one of the throaty chuckles Duo rarely indulged in, or even the dark laugh of Shinigami. This was something closer to hysteria.

"Tell me."

Duo drew in a deep breath.

"He won't forgive her if she farts on his face when they're sixty-nining."

"Yes. That seemed to be the consensus."

Duo looked at him, his eyes earnest, the laughter gone.

"Trowa. You left me to _die_ and I forgave you. He - it's one hypothetical fart and he's going to dump her."

It took him a moment to organize his reactions to Duo's words. Yes, he had left Duo to die - many times, and while they had never spoken of those times directly, Trowa had felt the weight of those betrayals keenly. But Duo had forgiven him? It didn't even sound like a recent forgiveness, from the way Duo said it.

But what upset his equilibrium even more -

"We're dating?" He had to ask.

Duo shrugged one shoulder, an uneasy look on his face.

"No? I don't - hell, Tro, I don't know what dating is, but we - we sure as hell aren't just _friends_."

"No," Trowa agreed. They sure as hell were not _just_ friends.

"And I think, I mean, _I've_ moved past the dumping you when you fart in my face stage of things."

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"I've never _done_ that to you."

Duo shrugged again.

"Well, if you _did_, I think I could forgive you."

"You think?"

"Look, if I'm being honest here - and you know me, honesty first - I'm like 96% certain I'd forgive you."

Trowa felt his lips twitch.

"I think I could forgive you too," he admitted.

Duo grinned.

"Want to try it?"

Trowa stared at him in horror.

"Do I want to try farting in each other's faces?"

"No - seriously, _no_ Trowa. Where do you get these ideas?" Duo shook his head. "Do you want to try sixty-nining?"

"Oh."

"We don't have to," Duo said in a rush.

They had touched almost every inch of each other's bodies with their hands, but had still kept their mouths to themselves. Trowa considered it. He had dreamed about it - for months he had closed his eyes and wondered what Duo's cock would feel like in his mouth - but he didn't know if Duo would appreciate that kind of attention.

"Have you done it before?" He asked.

Duo shook his head.

"No, but I figure… I can follow your lead?"

Trowa nodded. _He_ had done it before, given a blow job, tasted someone else's pleasure and tried not to care how much it burned his throat or stretched his lips.

"I don't want to do anything they did to you," Duo said. "I don't want to be like them. I don't want to touch you like they did."

Trowa nodded. He didn't want Duo to do that either, but even more, he didn't want to remind Duo of _his_ past.

He reached out and took Duo's hand. He considered the long, agile fingers, the things they had done in the past, the things they _could_ do in the future.

"It's going to be tricky," he told Duo at last, "because you need to relax or you're going to choke. But if you relax too much and fart in my face, there's a 12% chance I'm not going to forgive you."

"_Twelve?_ I'm only saying four percent here! What -"

"Must be your Catholic coming out, all that willingness to forgive."

Duo muttered something under his breath but then sighed and looked at his watch.

"If we hurry we can make it to class - or do you want to… give this a try?"

"You're asking me to skip class and have sex instead?"

Duo nodded, the right corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

"Next thing I know you're going to want to go to a Victory Day party," Trowa muttered, but he tugged on Duo's waistband, using it to pull the other man towards Kippernick's room.

"Afraid we're becoming normal?" Duo teased and pulled Trowa's shirt off.

"Normal? There's no danger of that ever happening," Trowa assured him and unzipped Duo's fly.

"You think?" There was a hint of seriousness to Duo's voice.

"Duo. Have you met us? I promise, we're never going to be normal. We're too good for that."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: And we reach the end. Thank you so very much to everyone who took the time to read this. Hugs to everyone who took the time to review. Up next: updates for Lost Dreams and Without Virtue! And Deviant!

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

_What May Come_

Chapter Nineteen

"We might as well - this once, don't you think?"

Trowa looked at Duo, standing naked in the middle of Kippernick's room, his t-shirt balled up between his hands as he tried to convince himself and Trowa to venture out of the room.

"We're going to regret it," Trowa told him, but he rolled off of Kippernick's bed and hunted for his boxers.

"It'll take five - ten minutes tops to get to the caf, grab the spoons, and be back."

"But we're going to have to walk past fifty thousand idiots to do so," Trowa reminded him.

Duo gave him a look.

"You're the one who bought the almond milk ice cream in the first place - we can let it melt or we can get some damned spoons."

"You seriously don't have anything in your gardening tools we could use?"

"Yeah, I've got the water dropper I use to add nitrogen to the plants - that will add some nice flavor to the ice cream."

Trowa sighed and gave in to the inevitable.

"Fine - but when we're molested by drunken morons - remember this was your idea."

Duo tossed a shirt at him and they finished dressing.

As they approached the door to their room they could _hear_ the drunken morons outside, cheering and laughing and celebrating.

They exchanged a determined look and Duo opened the door.

It took them at least fifteen minutes to make it to the caf, and halfway there Duo finally just grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together and holding on because they had been shoved apart six times already by exuberant students who tried to hug them and dance with them.

He had never held hands with someone, not like this, and the press of Duo's thumb against the back of his hand reminded him of the day he had landed Heavyarms on earth, taken off his helmet, and felt the sun on his face.

They made it to the caf,which was locked down for the evening, and Duo snuck them in, procured the spoons, and led them back out into the madness.

"Coming through!"

A line of half naked men tore down the hall, barrelling into the other students.

Trowa backed them up against the wall, out of the path of the drunken, racing idiots.

Their fingers were still twined together, and Duo tugged on Trowa's hand.

He looked down, wondering if Duo wanted him to let go, but Duo was smirking up at him.

"What?" Trowa had to ask. Only moments ago Duo had looked as homicidal as Trowa felt.

"Nothing. I was just thinking, it's Victory Day."

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"It's been Victory Day for the last twenty two hours," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but I didn't feel all that victorious until now."

Trowa arched an eyebrow. He wondered what about being shoved up against a wall in a hallway packed with idiotic teeenagers had to do with Duo feeling victorious.

And then he realized.

He had shoved Duo against the wall and stood in front of him, crowding his body into a tight space, and Duo had _let_ him.

Trowa swallowed hard.

Two years ago - even a year ago - he imagined that doing that would have resulted in Duo shoving free or silently working through a panic attack.

But now, Duo just put a hand on his waist and pulled him closer.

Trowa looked around, but no one else seemed at all interested in them.

"So anyway, apparently people are celebrating some stupid shit today," Duo said, still smirking. "Feel like joining in?"

Without waiting for a response, Duo kissed him.

It was their first kiss. It was _his _first kiss, the first time he pressed back and felt the heat and passion of someone else and wanted more.

Duo's lips were rough and smooth at the same time - chapped just like Trowa's had to be - but they were warm and firm and they felt like everything Trowa had ever needed.

"Is it better or worse now?" Duo asked him, face face serious and his eyes asking a question that meant much more than his words.

"Better," Trowa answered without hesitation. And he leaned down and kissed Duo again.


End file.
